


Show Me How

by veiledndarkness



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veiledndarkness/pseuds/veiledndarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Merle says, goes. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me How

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the twd_kinkmeme prompt: _Merle is drunk and makes slightly underage Daryl put on a show for him._

He hears the command but he doesn’t quite believe it. 

He can smell the booze floating from his brother and it makes his nose wrinkle, the odour is that pungent. Merle’s drunk, oh Christ is he ever, and he’s got that look on his face, and nothin’ good ever comes from that look and he knows better than to repeat what his brother said, but he really doesn’t believe it. 

“What…?”

“I know you ain’t that thick, boy,” Merle slurs at him. He points to the worn rug before the couch and his eyes are gleaming in a way that makes Daryl want to cross his arms over his chest protectively. “You get on down there; give me a damn good show.”

He can’t help but stare at Merle, his eyes wide. Instinctively, he wants to refuse but Merle’s right there an’ he isn’t above using his fists on him for sayin’ ‘no’. He feels naked already from the way Merle’s leering at him. 

“Don’ make me repeat m’self,” Merle growls and he clenches one fist at his side threateningly. “I wanna see ya do it, I heard you ‘nuff times before.”

Oh Jesus, let the ground swallow him whole…Daryl’s ears burn in embarrassment. And here he thought he’d been stealthy enough, quiet enough to keep Merle from hearin’ him late at night, but who had he been foolin’ when their army cot style beds were practically beside each other?

“Ahh, don’ be like that, Darleen,” Merle laughs uproariously, slapping one big hand on his knee. “S’normal to wanna touch yerself, now you’re gonna g’on an’ show me how ya do it.”

Daryl swallows over the lump in his throat and his ears are still burning. He wipes his sweaty hands on his t-shirt, hesitating. He _can’t_ , he just…there’s a sick feeling in his stomach and he wants to run out of their trailer an’ maybe Merle won’t be able to catch him, he’s awful drunk as it is…but Merle’s meaner than their Pa ever was, twice as fast an’ he hits way harder. 

“The fuck ya waitin’ for? Strip off, boy.”

With trembling fingers, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and drags it up. He doesn’t want to do this, but Merle’s watchin’ him expectantly and there’s no escape, not really. Daryl swallows again and the lump is still there as he pulls the shirt up and over his head. He lets it fall to the rug and resists the urge to keep from coverin’ his chest with his arms.

Merle nods once in approval. “Take them pants off.”

Daryl fumbles with the belt to his jeans and his fingers feel numb as he unzips and strips the material off. He kicks his jeans and shorts off to the side and stares down at the rug, tracing the patterns he’s long since memorized over the years with his eyes and if his knees are weak, it’s only because of how Merle is still staring at him and he’s starting to feel a flush of _something_ deep in his belly. 

“There now, ain’t that a pretty sight,” Merle croons and he rubs one hand over the growing bulge in his own pants. 

Daryl’s ears burn and he can feel the heat traveling down his ears and into his neck. He swallows and swallows and his skin is prickling. “I…what uh, should I…” he mumbles into his chest, unable to look Merle in the eyes. 

“Wantcha to do what you been doin’ at night,” Merle says and his voice is rough and familiar to Daryl, the way he sounds when he brings a girl home now and again an’ Daryl has to stare at the wall, pretendin’ he can’t hear Merle fucking them into the squeaky mattress. 

Daryl bites his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand over his chest, navigating the area between his various scars with ease. He closes his eyes and thinks maybe he can pretend that Merle isn’t watchin’. That he’s alone in his bed and has the night to himself, and he lightly pinches a nipple, tweaking it just the way he likes, feeling the bolt of arousal start to flash through him. 

He tries his best to ignore the sound of his brother’s heavy breathing in front of him and focuses on touching himself, his hands smoothing an’ strokin’ over his chest and stomach, moving down to touch his still mostly soft cock. 

“Yeah,” Merle says and the sound is so familiar from all those nights where Daryl’s been the unwilling listener that he feels a flicker of true arousal break through and he cups his cock as it starts to swell with interest. 

“Like that,” Merle whispers thickly, “Nice n’ slow.”

Daryl blinks, broken from his internal thoughts, and he sees the hungry look on his brother’s face. He forgets to feel ashamed as he strokes his cock, feeling it pulse and grow in his hand and the way Merle’s starin’ is making him feel dizzy. He hitches in a breath and curves his fingers ‘round the base, stroking with a firmer grip. 

And he’s lost from there, he drops to his knees and moves his hand steadily, his other hand wanderin’ back up to his chest to rub and pinch at his nipples and he’s breathing harder, feeling his heart beat in his ears. 

He can hear Merle’s breathing and the way he’s makin’ all those sounds and it occurs to him that Merle’s gettin’ off on this and oh God, his stomach twists as desire slams into the base of his spine. He curves his wrist, twisting it slightly over the head of his cock and he gasps when he does, pre-cum coating his fingers. 

“Go lower,” Merle rasps and Daryl doesn’t hesitate, he moves his hand away from his chest, down between his thighs. “G’on, right there…”

He strokes a hand over one thigh and feels the muscles shake. “Oh God,” he whispers, gripping his cock with his other hand tightly to keep from coming right then and there. 

“Suck yer fingers,” Merle demands suddenly and as if in a trance, Daryl does so, parting his lips and sucking two fingers into his mouth, his tongue flicking against them obediently. 

He wets them and even though his face is burning, he lowers them back down between his thighs. He knows what Merle wants him to do and it doesn’t matter that he’s not really sure _how_ to do it. 

“Rub ‘em over it,” he hears and he does so, his hips bucking as if by their own will. 

Daryl hears a soft keening comin’ from his own throat and he rubs in a slow circle with his spit-slick fingers, teasingly until he feels a raw wave of longing rush through him. He wants more, he needs more and a part of his brain wants Merle to fuck him through the floor the way he does with those girls, fuck him as roughly as he wants to, and he can’t help the little needy sounds that he makes as he pushes one finger up inside slightly. 

His mouth falls open and he’s squirming, unable to stay still, his hand moving over his cock faster than before. He shudders and locks eyes with Merle, his hips bucking forward again and Merle’s lickin’ his lips like he wants to eat him up. 

“P-Please,” he croaks, teetering on the edge of release. He’s tensed; his spine is tinglin’ right down to his toes. 

Merle smirks at him but there’s love in his eyes and Daryl wants to cry or come and it feels too damn good. “I can’t…Merle,” he whines low in his throat. He curves his finger suddenly, brushing over _somethin’_ inside and that’s it, Jesus, he sees stars as he comes, he’s damn near howling as his orgasm rips through him, flowing down over his still moving fist. 

And when it ends, he’s shaking, kneelin’ on the rug and panting for air, his face flushed, lips pink and puffy from being bitten. Merle rubs the wet spot on his pants and he’s keepin’ his eyes locked on Daryl, a look of banked hunger still in them.

“C’mere,” he says, pattin’ his lap and Daryl moves to him without thinking about it, sitting down on Merle, his chest hitching with unsteady breaths. 

Merle takes Daryl’s hand in his own and he whimpers when he feels Merle’s tongue flicking over his fingers, cleaning them, one by one. He can smell the alcohol but he doesn’t mind it as much when Merle’s holdin’ him like this.


End file.
